The Chronicles Of Zelda
By Neo LinkMore Info / Reviews
Chapter 1: Deadly Genesis
Author’s Note : The minute I hopped onto my laptop and typed “Deadly Genesis” I knew that I was taking an awful risk describing the past of a legend, especially this first story. “Will they understand it?” “Will they enjoy it?” All of my much hated questions popped into my head. Then I realised that I was pretty effective at writing fan-fiction and just plunged into it. Putting this story together was like fitting a jigsaw puzzle together. Hopefully, you’ll fill the last piece and enjoy it.
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The sun hung in the sky, its radiance beating down upon the ground and anyone on it. It was mostly concentrating its efforts on one explorer. An explorer who, like most people, was trekking in the forest, Floria. The explorer was young, wearing brown tunics, grey plimsolls and a worn out expression. His name was Arkon.
The sun continued its attack on Arkon, the rays of light shimmering off his brown hair and its heat absorbed in a mixture of Arkon’s sweat and tunics.
However, Arkon had to admit that he was reaching his limits.
“I’m so hungry!!” he said to himself. He had been travelling for over 2 days and there was still no sign of a city. His provisions: A scanty supply of food and water, had ran out in less than three hours. Now with only a wooden staff to urge him onwards, Arkon was soon about to lose consciousness quickly. He had never travelled this far in his life. Only the tap of his cane, plodding of his feet and sound of people could push him onwards. ‘Sound of people?’
Arkon looked ahead, his hazel eyes just making out a group of huts further on. It was a town! And before Arkon knew it, his feet were embracing its cobbled streets.
Arkon’s ears rejoiced in the familiar sounds of rushing people, the familiar smell of smoke and food and the familiar sights of beggars and chickens. Arkon’s lips couldn’t help but curl into a smile. This town was alive with activity.
“Are you new here?” a voice rang out. Arkon turned, his eyes resting on a small market. The inquisitive voice belonged to the shop keeper, an old man with a very long white beard. Arkon kept his smug look.
“What makes you think that?” Arkon questioned. If it was one thing he hated, it was looking like a tourist. He waited for an answer whilst trying to give the man an impression of authority and power, his tunics bedraggled and his hair full of twigs.
“Well for a start,” the old man began, “I have never seen a girl like you looking around so much.” Another thing Arkon hated was when people mistook him for a girl. His smug look faded.
“I’M NOT A GIRL!!!!!” He shouted, spit and twigs flying everywhere in rage. The old man chuckled slightly.
“Whatever you say. Care for a drink?” He offered. Arkon calmed down and walked towards the shopkeeper.
“Alright,” Arkon answered, “How much are they?” His hand dived into his pocket. Arkon prided himself over his money. With a majestic wave, Arkon threw a sack of coins on the desk, his hands slithering about like a mime‘s.
“Hmmmmm,” The old man studied Arkon’s amount, “Rupees?! Who buys things with rupees? Down here we only charge items in Olags.”
“Olags?” Arkon asked.
“Yes that’s the name of this city: Olag. Our currency here is in Olag coins. Where do you come from?” The shopkeeper explained.
Arkon paused. He was a long way away from home. His village wasn’t really popular.
“I’ve come from my home village, Hyrule.” He explained, “I used to have everything there: My parents, My girlfriend, My own home.”
The shopkeeper looked interested,
“That little village!! You’ve come a long way, kid. Where’re your headed?” Arkon was beginning to get a little annoyed by these futile questions but he answered anyway.
“I left my home a few days ago. Ever since I was a child I’ve always wanted to go to the city of Telos. That’s where all the excitement happens,” Arkon explained, his mind wandering in a world of its own, “Once there, I’ll be able to seek training and become a Sage.”
He sighed. Thinking about his goal made it seem more distant but now that he had explained maybe the shopkeeper would give him a drink for free.
Instead, Arkon was surprised to see fear swelling around the old man’s face. His breathing became erratic and his face was as white as his beard. With a gasp, he dropped his glass sending it smashing to pieces.
“Just get out of here, kid. We don’t accept people like you here!” The old man barked. The change was so quick, that Arkon himself caught some of the fear that surrounded the shop keeper. What was going on? The sound of glass had alarmed a small crowd.
“Smith, are you alright?” One of them asked. They all looked well built for their age and began advancing towards Arkon and the shop keeper. “Is he bothering you, Smith?” the crowd member asked again. Arkon expected a cry of support from the old man but received quite the opposite.
“No. This man’s a Sage.” The shopkeeper answered, the element of fear potent in his voice. Although feeling proud of being called a Sage, Arkon was once again surprised at the spark, the Old man’s sentence had created. The crowd surrounded Arkon, anger swelling in them. Arkon was getting worried.
“I don’t want any trouble.” he ushered but it wasn’t stopping them.
“Your lot never do.” One of the crowd members said before running up to Arkon, his fist clenched. Arkon closed his eyes, knowing that for some reason, this town hated people from Telos and that he was going to die because of it.
What happened next was something of a mystery for Arkon. The man’s fist never connected with his face. All Arkon could remember was a pair of wings, bright white. Whiter than the old mans beard. And then………………………..darkness………………………..
Next Time : Whilst in an inn, Arkon’s questions are fully answered by his saviour, Fletcher, a man with unique abilities. However, with the discovery of a rebellion set to destroy Telos using the citizens of Olag, who can Arkon trust?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sun hung in the sky, its radiance beating down upon the ground and anyone on it. It was mostly concentrating its efforts on one explorer. An explorer who, like most people, was trekking in the forest, Floria. The explorer was young, wearing brown tunics, grey plimsolls and a worn out expression. His name was Arkon.
The sun continued its attack on Arkon, the rays of light shimmering off his brown hair and its heat absorbed in a mixture of Arkon’s sweat and tunics.
However, Arkon had to admit that he was reaching his limits.
“I’m so hungry!!” he said to himself. He had been travelling for over 2 days and there was still no sign of a city. His provisions: A scanty supply of food and water, had ran out in less than three hours. Now with only a wooden staff to urge him onwards, Arkon was soon about to lose consciousness quickly. He had never travelled this far in his life. Only the tap of his cane, plodding of his feet and sound of people could push him onwards. ‘Sound of people?’
Arkon looked ahead, his hazel eyes just making out a group of huts further on. It was a town! And before Arkon knew it, his feet were embracing its cobbled streets.
Arkon’s ears rejoiced in the familiar sounds of rushing people, the familiar smell of smoke and food and the familiar sights of beggars and chickens. Arkon’s lips couldn’t help but curl into a smile. This town was alive with activity.
“Are you new here?” a voice rang out. Arkon turned, his eyes resting on a small market. The inquisitive voice belonged to the shop keeper, an old man with a very long white beard. Arkon kept his smug look.
“What makes you think that?” Arkon questioned. If it was one thing he hated, it was looking like a tourist. He waited for an answer whilst trying to give the man an impression of authority and power, his tunics bedraggled and his hair full of twigs.
“Well for a start,” the old man began, “I have never seen a girl like you looking around so much.” Another thing Arkon hated was when people mistook him for a girl. His smug look faded.
“I’M NOT A GIRL!!!!!” He shouted, spit and twigs flying everywhere in rage. The old man chuckled slightly.
“Whatever you say. Care for a drink?” He offered. Arkon calmed down and walked towards the shopkeeper.
“Alright,” Arkon answered, “How much are they?” His hand dived into his pocket. Arkon prided himself over his money. With a majestic wave, Arkon threw a sack of coins on the desk, his hands slithering about like a mime‘s.
“Hmmmmm,” The old man studied Arkon’s amount, “Rupees?! Who buys things with rupees? Down here we only charge items in Olags.”
“Olags?” Arkon asked.
“Yes that’s the name of this city: Olag. Our currency here is in Olag coins. Where do you come from?” The shopkeeper explained.
Arkon paused. He was a long way away from home. His village wasn’t really popular.
“I’ve come from my home village, Hyrule.” He explained, “I used to have everything there: My parents, My girlfriend, My own home.”
The shopkeeper looked interested,
“That little village!! You’ve come a long way, kid. Where’re your headed?” Arkon was beginning to get a little annoyed by these futile questions but he answered anyway.
“I left my home a few days ago. Ever since I was a child I’ve always wanted to go to the city of Telos. That’s where all the excitement happens,” Arkon explained, his mind wandering in a world of its own, “Once there, I’ll be able to seek training and become a Sage.”
He sighed. Thinking about his goal made it seem more distant but now that he had explained maybe the shopkeeper would give him a drink for free.
Instead, Arkon was surprised to see fear swelling around the old man’s face. His breathing became erratic and his face was as white as his beard. With a gasp, he dropped his glass sending it smashing to pieces.
“Just get out of here, kid. We don’t accept people like you here!” The old man barked. The change was so quick, that Arkon himself caught some of the fear that surrounded the shop keeper. What was going on? The sound of glass had alarmed a small crowd.
“Smith, are you alright?” One of them asked. They all looked well built for their age and began advancing towards Arkon and the shop keeper. “Is he bothering you, Smith?” the crowd member asked again. Arkon expected a cry of support from the old man but received quite the opposite.
“No. This man’s a Sage.” The shopkeeper answered, the element of fear potent in his voice. Although feeling proud of being called a Sage, Arkon was once again surprised at the spark, the Old man’s sentence had created. The crowd surrounded Arkon, anger swelling in them. Arkon was getting worried.
“I don’t want any trouble.” he ushered but it wasn’t stopping them.
“Your lot never do.” One of the crowd members said before running up to Arkon, his fist clenched. Arkon closed his eyes, knowing that for some reason, this town hated people from Telos and that he was going to die because of it.
What happened next was something of a mystery for Arkon. The man’s fist never connected with his face. All Arkon could remember was a pair of wings, bright white. Whiter than the old mans beard. And then………………………..darkness………………………..
Next Time : Whilst in an inn, Arkon’s questions are fully answered by his saviour, Fletcher, a man with unique abilities. However, with the discovery of a rebellion set to destroy Telos using the citizens of Olag, who can Arkon trust?
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- Chapter 1: Deadly Genesis
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Comments on this chapter
achitka says:
Prequels are always entertaining to read - so I shall return when you post more to see where this goes.
achitka says:
So one more time just for fun:
Let's hope Akron doesn't find the exchange rate to be to steep. You do have an unusual style of description that has piqued my interest - there for I'll be back - Prequels can be fun!